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Watching VH1, because my brain cells go into an instant coma the minute my heart rate tops 160, so I learned that 1) Ice-T (historic gangsta rapper currently of Law & Order: SVU fame) is teaching prep schoolers how to rap, and 2) Eminem travels with a 40-member entourage which includes a hairstylist. Even while my brain starved for oxygen, I mustered a fair amount of incredulity, mostly because the majority of people I know have better hair than Eminem. Luckily for all of us, they are not as skilled in the art of hip-hop.

Oh, and my cats have been put down. I came home on Friday, and they were gone. The vet thinks at least one of them had cancer, which can’t have been pleasant for her, so it’s all for the best. Eighteen years is a good run for a tabby.

My weak attempt at quitting martial arts lasted all of two weeks. While I was gone, I would find myself standing on subway platforms, idly pondering things like “I wonder if I could break that guy’s spine?”

Well, I finally got around to watching Disc 1 of Lost, which I Netflixed but couldn’t bring myself to watch for the past two weeks. I can see where it would be addictive, but really, am I supposed to find all the characters unbearingly annoying? Right now, my favorite characters are Scott and Steve, and they’re pretty much extras.

I don’t know how far I jogged tonight, because the treadmill display was stuck on…METRICS!!!

Listen, I agree that the metric system is superior to the charmingly whimsical nonsense we’ve been using. I JUST CAN’T DO THE CONVERSIONS WHEN MY HEART RATE IS 179, PEOPLE. CAN YOU CUT ME NO SLACK AT ALL???